Refuge: The Arrival: Book 2

by Doug Dandridge

  No wonder she went mad, thought the schizophrenic physicist, the dirt he was lying in starting to bubble around him. This power is maddening. It is the power of a God. With that thought he clamped down on his own feelings, not allowing himself to be dragged down the path that had captured Katherine. I have to stop her, he thought again as he levitated from prone to standing, feeling the heat rush out into the air around him. I only hope I don’t have to kill her to do it.

  As he turned to face the Weathermage a bolt of lightning came out of the sky, striking him with a fury of light and electricity. It felt as if he had stuck his finger into a light socket, a mild tingling that flowed through his body. He smiled as the heat drove the lightning from his body and he looked into the face of the Weathermage.

  Katherine scowled at him and she again raised her hands into the air. The wind gusted, and rain began to fall. The moisture crackled when it struck the flames over his body. It began to pick up in intensity, more water coming down in her attempt to drown his flames.

  James pulled more of the heat of the Earth into his body, amazed that he could feel the flames burning around his body, but no pain. In fact it felt invigorating. A large cloud of steam whirled around him in the wind as the heat evaporated the water. No matter how fast the water came, the heat built up to counteract it.

  A blast of wind tore away the steam, and the rain slackened. The wind picked up in speed, blowing with hurricane force as Katherine tried to blow out the fire James had gathered around him. Or simply to blow away James. Her face was a study in concentration while she pushed with all of her will at the Firemage.

  James resisted the winds, flames blowing like a jet engine to his rear. He squeezed his eyes to slits and concentrated on the Weathermage. Bringing his right arm up, the physicist took aim at the woman, then released a stream of fire that should have incinerated her on the spot. Except for the winds, that picked up to over a hundred and fifty kilometers an hour and deflected the fire stream, bending it back to fly over the head of the Firemage.

  What next, he thought. They were too evenly matched it seemed. He couldn’t hurt her, and she couldn’t hurt him. The freight train sound registered even as that thought entered his head. He looked over, eyes widening, and a funnel cloud touched down a hundred meters away and began to make its way toward him.

  * * *

  Jessica had never thought she would be dog fighting when she had entered the helicopter arm of the US Army. Her job, after all, was to take out land targets in aid of her ground pounding buddies, while avoiding aircraft like the plague. They had been taught some tactics to handle attacks by fast movers, and knew they might be called on to combat some enemy copters. But nothing like what she was experiencing now.

  Banking the Comanche to the left, she lined up her pip on the juvenile dragon she was chasing. Her throttle was down, and the ten ton monster was only making about a hundred knots, putting on its full head of steam and trying to get away from her. She could out do it by at least a hundred and thirty knots, but over flying it was not the objective here. Blasting it from the sky was. And she was very low on ammo, less than a hundred rounds in her chain gun feed.

  I’m an ace, she thought, lining the dragon up in her sights, only to see it slide away with the flap of a wing. She had already shot down seven of the highly maneuverable beasts, though she had to credit her back seater with three of the kills, which had come from missiles. But four were from her maneuvering her bird for a gunshot, and were her kills, no matter which way you looked at it. And dragons were getting scarce on this side of the mountain.

  “Here you go, you son-of-a-bitch,” she yelled as the firing pip lined up and she triggered her gun. The gun started sending out rounds, while she followed the dragon with her eye, turning the gun to follow it. The rounds went across the back of the beast, tearing into its rider and through its scales. The beast let out a squawking roar and its wings folded up. It started the long fall to the ground, seven hundred meters down. That made five by gun, and she an ace now no matter the reckoning.

  Stuart checked her ammo readout and grunted as she noted she still had thirty-four rounds. Enough for maybe one more kill, if she were skillful enough, or lucky.

  The dragon hitting the side of the helicopter shook her out of her thoughts, the copter rocking from the impact of a creature that outweighed it by double. It smacked hard against the chopper, its front claws digging hand holds into the aluminum and composite skin, while its horned head hit the canopy, sending a spike like appendage into the back seat and spearing Lt. Burke. The man had time for a quick gasp before he lost consciousness, the horn protruding through his chest guaranteeing that he would not awake.

  The six bladed rotors hit the dragon in its left wing, shearing through the bone and muscle and crippling the creature as a flying beast. Another of the blades struck the thick tail of the beast as it curled above. Shattered scales and blood fountained into the air, and the rotor sheared halfway through the tail, stopping in the thick muscle and grating from the bone of the appendage. The bearings of the helicopter’s turbines screamed as they ground to a halt.

  The helicopter continued in an arc forward, its speed generating some lift as it and its huge passenger continued through the air. The dragon roared in pain and rage while it pulled its head back, red eyes boring into Jessica’s for a second. The pilot felt a wave of almost unbearable fear washing over her, and it took all of her will power to take some action.

  Jessica pulled her .357 magnum revolver from its shoulder holster while the beast brought its head forward. Plexiglass and plastic burst into the cockpit and a horn came through. It gouged along Jessica’s chest, carving a furrow in the top of her left breast. The beast pulled back, its eyes taking her in as it decided what to do next.

  Stuart knew what she needed to do. Grimacing from the pain of her lacerated breast, the pilot shoved the barrel of the pistol through the hole in the canopy, looking down her arm to get the best sight picture she could produce of the red eye of the creature. She pulled the trigger, a jerkier motion than she was taught, but this was not the range. The gun roared in the enclosed canopy, deafening the pilot and taking her mind from her pain.

  The first round hit a facial scale and dug into the hard horn. The second round bounced from the left horn of the creature. The third struck dead center into the large orb that was staring in at her. The eye erupted into white matter and liquid, followed by blood, as the bullet ripped through the organ and into the canal behind. It ricocheted from the bone and continued down the nerve channel to the brain beyond, where the mushroomed round blasted into the gray matter of the huge reptile's cognitive centers.

  The dragon’s roar turned into a shrill squeal. Its claws spasmed and released from the helicopter. The tail pulled the chopper to the side before disengaging from the rotor. As the monster fell away backwards Jessica operated her flaps and righted the chopper, feeling a little bit of relief as the rotor started to rotate under the air pressure of the helicopter falling. It shuddered for a moment as the imbalanced blades, part of one damaged by the tail of the monster, shook. She looked down, for a spot to put the counter rotating bird in the clear, and saw only forest and rocks.

  “Hell of a way to end the day,” she said, trying for a landing she could walk away from.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “We estimate that over two hundred of the monsters have been knocked out of the air,” said Colonel Harris, the G2. “We’re not sure how many more, but it could be quite a few.”

  “And what about the ones that have been knocked down but are still kicking?” asked General Zachary Taylor, looking up into the sky as one of the Raptors flew over. He knew that those airplanes had kicked the crap out of the enemy, taking out at least fifty of the great beasts, and scaring away many more.

  “Armored and mechanized infantry teams are tracking them down as we speak,” said Harris, a smile on his face. “Delgado’s men have reported taking out nineteen of the beasts with long ran
ge fire.”

  “And our losses?” asked the General, his shoulders tightening as he awaited the butcher’s bill.

  “Not as bad as we expected,” said the G2, his smile widening. “We lost most of the copters, but they were out of ammo anyway. Some of the crew got away. Most of our dedicated antiair assets are gone, and we lost many of the men serving them. Otherwise, we lost a lot of unmanned vehicles, maybe about twenty tanks and forty or so APCs that were involved in combat. Total casualties were around seven or eight hundred. And we mauled the attacking force.”

  “Only because of luck,” said Sergeant Major Jackson, looking up at the sky where a Raptor was harassing a dragon by making repeated high speed fly by’s. “Or divine intervention.”

  “I guess they’re out of ammunition as well,” said Taylor, watching while the jet swooped close by the dragon and sent the beast into a downward spin from its airflow. “But they were a godsend, were they not?”

  “Yes they were, sir,” said the G2, nodding his head. “I’m still not sure about this belief in a God, or God almighty, sending us here. But the evidence seems to be mounting against me.”

  “What about that mess over there?” asked Jackson, pointing to the north where the storms still raged and tornadoes scoured the earth. A flash of fire shown through the darkness for a moment, then again.

  “The people are under cover,” said Harris, looking nervously at the storm that seemed to be under no one’s control. “So they should be safe until it blows over. But we may have substantial equipment losses over there.”

  “Can we do something about it?” asked Taylor, his eyes to his glasses as he scanned that part of the valley. Fire flashed yet again, then an explosive boom as flame rose into the air. The flame began to swirl, like the nearby tornado, twirling in an out around it.

  “I don’t know what,” said Harris, his face giving a confused look. “Even the mages I talked to weren’t sure what to do about it. They thought it was a battle between a couple of mages, and energies were being released that frankly they didn’t want to deal with.”

  “Whose mages?” asked Taylor, looking over at the Colonel. “One of ours against one of theirs?”

  “No one knows,” said the Colonel, cringing slightly under the glare of his superior.

  “That’s a fine state of affairs,” said the General, scowling. “There is a major action, right here in the middle of our sanctuary, and we don’t know who is involved.”

  “No sir,” said the Colonel, dropping his eyes. “It didn’t occur to me to put our people in danger messing with magic.”

  “Well, Colonel Harris,” said the General in a strained voice, “send some tanks and APCs over there to see what is going on. They should be able to handle a tornado. At least I never heard of a twister strong enough to lift a Brad, much less an Abrams. Tell them to be careful and to shoot anything that looks like it might be a threat to them. And get them out there now.” The General’s voice continued to rise while he talked to his G2, coming out in a shout at the end.

  “Yes sir,” said Harris, giving a quick salute and backing away, disappearing into the bunker.

  Taylor sighed and looked over at his Sergeant Major. The NCO hunched his shoulders and returned a sheepish smile.

  “It’s hard enough fighting on a world where we are still not sure of all the ground rules,” said Taylor in a hushed voice. “At the end of a nonexistent supply line. Without having the incompetence of my own officers bite me in the ass.”

  “He’s still learning, sir,” said the senior NCO, who himself would soon become an officer, and was probably feeling the need to learn a lot, right now.

  “The center of the damned valley is being ravaged, probably due to the actions of a mage or two, and he did nothing about it,” growled Taylor. “I know we had a lot going on, but he should have at least made sure that I had the information to make a decision.”

  “Well, we’ll soon know,” said Jackson. “I just hope that knowing doesn’t come with too high a price tag.”

  Taylor scowled at his Sergeant Major for a moment, then shook his head and started scanning the skies again, looking for the ever scarcer dragons that were being driven from the air.

  * * *

  The tornado weaved its way across the ground, heading toward Drake. The Firemage moved his own construct, a tornado made of flame, to block the path of the other twister. Tornadoes struck each other, dirt and flames intermingling as the twisters fought for position. The normal twister bounced back, then looped around as if looking for another opening to strike the Firemage.

  This is getting us nowhere, thought Drake at first, until he noticed that the other twisters produced by Katherine were dying on the vine. A few had already been absorbed into the twister she was sending at him. Several others had retracted into the clouds, and now the rest were simply fading away as the winds that sustained them died. So I am accomplishing something, he thought. The other twisters were not tearing up the countryside, including the works of man. But the remaining tornado was growing at an alarming rate, until it had reached mammoth proportions. And it was heading toward him as it dwarfed his own column of fire.

  James threw more fire into his column, the heat rising from the ground, tingling through his body, and flying from the ends of his arms. He felt like a superhero as he added energy to the column, the gouts of flame flying into the spinning circle. The column grew in width as it increased its spin. He wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough, but it was everything he could give.

  The massive tornado struck the column of fire. Debris, much of it igniting as soon as it left the tornado, flew from the twister in random directions. A large piece of wood took a beeline toward the Firemage’s head. James shifted his hand at the last moment and sent flame into the wood. With a flash it reduced to white ash, which swirled away in the wind, some into the eyes of the Firemage.

  Drake cursed as he brought a hand up instinctively to shield his eyes from the ash, cutting off half of his power to his column of fire. Katherine’s tornado surged forward, brushing aside the column of fire and making for the distracted Firemage. James felt the wind increase around him while he attempted to clear his vision. His feet left the ground and he found himself engulfed in the swirling funnel of the tornado. He felt some of his power fade as he lost his connection with the earth.

  Drake felt panic sweep over him. He was being buffeted through the air, his power fading. He remembered stories of tornadoes on Earth, where a straw had been driven into a tree, and tractor trailers thrown a mile to smash to the ground. He didn’t know what would happen to him when he was released from the swirling cloud, but he didn’t think it would be pleasant.

  The tornado hit his diminishing column of fire, and suddenly the walls of the tornado were streaked red with the flame they absorbed from the pillar. The column dissipated, and James felt some power flowing into him, no longer channeling into the pillar of flame.

  I’ve got to get out of here, he thought, his mind straining to find an escape. Being spun quickly through the air wasn’t helping him to concentrate, and the dizziness and disorientation was having a significant effect on his faculties.

  Think, dammit. There has to be a way out. With all of this power I have, there has to be a way out.

  He saw Katherine through the swirling cloud, standing in the open with her arms raised in the air, looking at her churning handiwork as it spun. Something hit James in the shoulder, and he cried out in pain. He could still move his arm, so he thought the injury couldn’t be too severe. Not yet. But something was sure to happen soon.

  Think, physicist, he growled in his mind. There has to be something I can do. He thought about the tornado. What was its mechanism of action? Something to do with a low pressure area in the center, with higher pressure air moving swiftly around it. So if he could do something to the low pressure area, or otherwise change the physical parameters of the phenomenon.

  A gout of flame jumped from the Earth to his body, figh
ting its way through the swirl. James could feel the strength flowing into him. His bumps and bruises began to heal as he pulled his element into himself. He kept his focus on the swirling mass of low pressure. Then he released his energy into the mass of air outside the funnel cloud. The air temperature rose, going over fifty Celsius in seconds. Air flowed away from the outside of the funnel as the temperature rose. Some flowed away from the tornado, some to the inside. He expanded his column of fire around the funnel and more air flowed in. The pressure rose in the center of the cloud, until it was no longer a low pressure area. The funnel collapsed on itself in a boom.

  Drake found himself flying through the air, spun away from the dying tornado. He concentrated his power again, pulling it away from the dissipating twister and into his own body. He sent flame spewing downward, using it like a jet to slow his descent. His feet hit the ground gently. He turned off the jet, getting his bearings.

  Katherine Heidle stood fifty meters away, glaring at him. Her face reddened with anger and she looked her hate at him across the distance.

  If looks could kill, thought Drake, realizing on this world that might be true. But Katherine did not have that power as far as he knew. She would have to hit him with something within her power. And she was starting to gesture, pulling something out her bag of tricks.

  I’m getting tired of this, thought the physicist, grimacing. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Katherine. But she was a danger to her own people. She needed to be stopped. And James Drake would not be able to stop her if he was dead.

  James threw a fireball at Katherine, putting all of his energy into it. Katherine flung out a hand and sent a gust of wind that pushed the fireball off target, to crash into the ground twenty meters away from the Weathermage.

  This is where we left off before, thought Drake. Anything he threw at her she could deflect. So anything coming through the air was something she could knock out of the way. And if not the air, then what?